


Neoclassical

by moonlitknight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Mommy issues to an extent?, Oneshot, Oneshot Compilation, Persephone Goes Willingly With Hades (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), a bit of an odd atmosphere, ambigious ending, i may continue it if anyone shows interest?, reader as persephone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23424655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitknight/pseuds/moonlitknight
Summary: Oh, how one tires of stagnant days.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	1. meet.

Soft, green grass crushes beneath bare feet. It grew unruly, appearing jagged in some places, brushing anywhere from an ankle to grazing mid-thigh. The wind hummed past gently, rustling not only the unruly grass, but also unruly locks from the top of your crown, beginnings the misplacement of a newly made daisy crown. The day was akin to any other; gorgeous. Unfortunately, you’d grown used to the cycle of its static beauty, instead attempting to salvage appreciation and savor the flavor of the nature at your disposal. However, despite this, you couldn’t help but find yourself becoming a bit desensitized to it.

Every day felt as though it was a trial of the same tribulations; a dance you’d become well acquainted with. To awaken with the sun’s rise, her golden kiss of the horizon enough to rouse your eyes open and put your body in gear. Mother had always claimed that being early to rise would aid in your overall mood for the day, not that you had much particular input on how She’d micromanage how you felt

You began your day with a hearty breakfast of the typically vegetarian variety, typically a nod of appreciation to the work that your mother did. Those around you encouraged to take your time with eating, to allow the flavors of each bite play on your tongue like a Shakespearean play. It amused you in the beginning, taking their words to heart and practicing it just to go along with their wishes. As time wore on, the days blurring together with one another, you found yourself tiring of the routine - of all the routines.

The remainder of the morning would leave you to work on whatever skills She deemed a necessity. Sewing and cooking and honing the prowess growing within you. It festered, beautiful and green, just like Mother’s. Then, the day was yours to explore the lands. The sprawling, gracious, and luxurious Lands. Sometimes you would mingle with the creatures who found home in the forest, those who made their home in the space of bark or in the shimmer of puddles and streams. Though you’d never spoken to Her of them, you were sure she’d known of them. As always, you were simply under Her eye.

Throughout the evening, when the sun’s descent on the other side of the sky colored the clouds orange, or pink, or purple, you would be making yourself another meal. This one was of your own choice, if it included meat, it would be game you’d brought down by your own hand.

Yes, the days blurred together, and the exhilaration of this lifestyle granted to you was beginning to dull, you found yourself craving more than what was granted to you. The freedom was thrilling in comparison to what you had before, and in retrospect, felt as though chains bound you to who you once were.

So as you wander the sprawling green fields, dotted with wild flowers and wildlife that sometimes graced your vision, you wonder if you can find yourself passed the typical borders of what your allowed. To push the limits, pass through the forest filled to the brim with gentle woodland creatures, and see what lie ahead; out from under Her eye.

The thought alone ignited curiosity and wonder through your veins, though not to your face. Never to your face, for that was the first place She’d look if something were to go awry. As momentary as the plan and excitement of it was, it faded, replacing itself with cool, hard fear; like a rock at the pit of your stomach.

Blindly did your feet carry you throughout the woods, passing by many private eyes who seemed nearly enthralled with your every move. Soon, you found yourself perched by a small pond, atop a branch sturdy enough to hold your weight. Around you the scenery came alive, shaping into nymphs with bubbly giggles and typical friendly dispositions. They approached you from their respective residences, glee plastered on their technicolor features. You watched them with idle interest, making a mimic of their expressions as one leaned on the branch beside you.

“Oh, Spring’s Daughter! We’re so glad you came today,” her voice was angelic in tone, as though a choir came together to make her tone; a match made in heaven with her gorgeous foam-colored skin, milky eyes, and shimmering blue hair. “Something has come to our attention, something of interest!”

“ _ Quite _ the interest,” another said, of oak skin and pearly grin. Her voice, though not as striking, held its own with a soft, melodic tone.

“Are you going to keep me in the dark, then?” You giggle yourself, allowing a genuine smile to brighten your typically hollow features. “C’mon, tell me!”

The quartet around you looks to one another, sharing a conversation of glances. Another giggles, her deep, emerald eyes looking so deep into you, you wondered if she could grasp your heart.

“Do you promise to not show anyone else?” Her tone bordered playful as she leaned herself onto you, forehead to forehead.

“Absolutely  _ not _ ,” your voice was startlingly quiet, your smile reaching that of a grin.

“Okay, okay, here hold your palm out, I’ll take you,” the fourth one said, with wide eyes and a straight faced expression. Her aura wasn’t as ethereal or peppy, instead something of a darker caliber radiated from her. With ashy-gray skin and pin-straight black hair, she held her hand out to you.

Hesitantly, you put your hand into hers, allowing your curiosity to get the better of you. The other three nymphs allowed themselves to giggle, trotting off to cause a ruckus somewhere else. You watched them for a moment, nervousness beginning to creep into the heels of your feet. It felt as though they were taking your solace with them, in a way.

Looking back to the placid nymph, she cracked a small smile; a seemingly unpracticed expression for her doe-eyed features. You offered a small smile back as she turned, leading you through the familiar woods. Many creatures paid you no mind, though some stopped in their tracks and stared, prompting you to stare back.

“So, where are we going, anyway?” You decide to break the silence, in hopes to shake the building anxiety on your back.

“You’ll see.”

The cryptic answer leaves you bemused, and you look around once more. The scenery, of the typically lush and familiar flourishing kind, are slowly becoming less reminiscent of Her trademark Land. It worries you, despite recalling the vague exhilaration at this exact act crossing your mind hours before. Even worse, the sky had transitioned from the lovely blue you’d spent so long staring at into the beautiful palette which signaled the end of the day was coming soon, leaving the light to come through the tree’s canopy to become somewhat scarce. It left you uneasy, just how long  _ had _ you two been walking, anyway?

You continued on silently with your unease for awhile until your companion came to a stop. The scenery around was different, not helped by the monochrome, silver moonlight beginning to scatter through the trees. What uniformity was typically held in your Mother’s regard seemed to have been forgone here, instead an unruly, beautiful, ever-changing mess you found yourself fascinated by.

“We’re here, Spring,” she murmured, turning to you. Her voice was hollow, a quiet thing you found yourself becoming wary of.

“What is it that you wanted to show me, then?”

“Take a step over here.”

You momentarily gnaw on your lip, stepping forward to where she’d told you to. The air grew heavy, thicker than just the humidity you were aware of, and all too quickly. No, it was darker, tenser, laced with a kind of energy you’d never had around you. Amid the feeling of anxiety on your back, it drew you in, causing another trembling, yet eager step forward.

A figure began materializing, sapping out whatever silvery moonlight was around for a moment before stepping forward and sending a brief wave of force with them, knocking you off balance.

You took a second to regain your composure before taking him all in. Darkness radiated off of hi in waves, like how life and youth radiated from you. He was donned in all black, with pale skin, and seemingly monochrome in the pale moonlight of the early nightfall. In his hand was an object, one you were unable to make out for a moment before witnessing its ignition. It cut through the single-toned light with an angry and red and threatening light, to which he lowered closer to you, as if to use it like a lantern.

Thankful to some miracle, your breathing stayed level, though your mouth hung slightly agape as you awaited a reaction to grace his stony, scar-ridden face. Anything to change in his deep, dark, brown eyes. A slight twinge to his lower lip, and he finally broke the tension.

“Are you afraid, my dear lilac?” His voice resembled the velvety texture of a petal as his unoccupied hand came to rest under your chin.

Your mouth came to shut, eyes wide and deer-like as you shook your head. There was  _ no _ way your voice was going to work enough to even say any kind of meager reply.

“Do you know who I am?” Amusement seemed to toy not only in his tone, but also on his face.

“Hades,” your voice came out small, rabbit-like in its timidness.

“I see Mother taught you well,” he snickered coolly, looking to the nymph who led you here. “Fantastic job. You live another day.”

He stood to his full height, eyes seeming entranced on your expression once again before his face returned to stoicism. “May we meet again, lilac.”

And with that, he and the nymph disappeared, leaving you alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH my first work in another fandom! :') i hope it's enjoyable! please do leave feedback if you liked it? depending on the reception i may or may not stretch it to another chapter or something. thank you for reading! ♡  
> as a side note, i had him refer to the reader as a lilac due to the meanings of the flower: purity + innocence. i would've gone with daisy but i didn't wanna step on daisy ridley's toes lol  
> im also @ [m00nlitknight](https://m00nlitknight.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you have any requests!


	2. bonus: languages of love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> adoration all but radiates when the two of you are together.

**Words of affirmation**

The seasonal cycle is inevitable. Something both you and he know you must abide by, as unfortunate as it is. Though as much as you want to break it, to simply spend more time with your beloved and to spite Mother, there is power in the adoration of mortals. Their outpour of adoration when you came back, blessed the Earth with fertile soil and granted good crops, admittedly made you feel adored, not to mention make sure you continued a bountiful life with Hades. However, nothing compared to the stumble and stutter of your beloved.

“My Queen,” he would call you affectionately, a brief dusting of pink present on his features only for your viewing and entertainment. In the satin of his voice, it had an immediate effect on your mood. Especially when he would whisper it in just the right way.

“My King,” you would say, cheeky and youthful grin proud on your features, even if you’d only just brought torture unto a poor soul.

You admit, you missed the stuttering of him when you’d have to leave. In the beginning, when you needed to leave and enter the world of the living once again, he had little idea of how to bring his thoughts to light. An outright flustered mess, his night-sky locks bouncing as he failed in articulation. Even if there was brief frustration and sorrow gripping your heart, there was a silver lining that Hades’ adoration was all but eternal for you.

Dominance was a rarity for you, so the gripping of his chiseled face and bringing it down to your level -- you swear, the man is an absolute  _ tower _ \-- came as a further surprise to him. A gentle kiss would be laid upon his forehead as you looked into his eyes, filled with sorrow and molten love. “We will be together once again, and once again we will be something so beautiful even the Pantheon cannot look upon us.”

You swear he glows as you leave.

**Gifts**

They’re one thing; possessive. Hades has never been known to share, granted an entire land for which he is meant to rule. 

Your gifts reflect this selfishness. They may be carnal, physical and of his own creation; marks you were undoubtedly surprised by in the beginning. Trailing from your neck to the collarbone to your chest. Initially, you were flustered by them, but came to appreciate them.

He dons you in black and red, his colors to show his love. Deep and dark and mysterious, the crown is something you wear on your own behalf. You are not just Persephone, Goddess of Spring; you are also the Queen of the Underworld. It’s a hefty title, and you shoulder it with divine importance.

Your gifts aren’t as possessive, though can undoubtedly range. It’s always a hit or miss with him, so you’ve stopped pouring every absolute ounce of yourself into them. As gentle and loving as Hades can be, you know there are tendencies he won’t give up for even you.

The cape, deep and brown, dyed by your own hand, is one which he loves. He adores it, swears he can still smell your scent on it.

The vases around the Palace are gifts to you, and the flowers in them are for him. Eternal are they, powered by the adoration you hold for one another. Their wither is never seen by either of you, the flowers themselves ranging from lilacs to red roses. The meanings are lost on him, yet the significance of your choosing undoubtedly meaning the universe to him.

**Acts of service**

Despite the seemingly smooth running of the Underworld, it’s a tiring place to exist, let alone make sure everything goes as planned each and every day. The first times you’d stepped foot in the places confinements, you’d wondered just how Hades hadn’t run himself to the bone.

So, you asked him to teach you the ropes. He did so, albeit with a bit of a bite, nothing you couldn’t handle. He appeared possessive over everything he’d built, and built by himself. You didn’t blame him for it, but you can’t help but giggle at the obvious relief he feels when you shoulder the workload for a day. The gratefulness, for you can sense when it begins to weigh too much on him, cut into him too deep.

Besides, it’s your honor to be in eternal matrimony with a God who knows how to keep things running.

**Quality time**

Your readmittance into Hades’ life is not taken lightly. For the time you spend within one another’s lives, you’re almost always in one another’s presence one way or another. For the first month, he’s your shadow, and you, his. Your wrath becomes well-known across the Underworld, something so volatile it can apparently make Hades quake in fear.

Regardless, the time spent around one another is spent in a variety of ways. Sitting in silence and simply soaking one another in, without even looking at each other. Sometimes, it’s simply walking the palace together and talking. Other times, it’s the action of holding one another and falling asleep while understanding that work can wait.

As much as he hates to admit it, the time spent apart only deepens the flame you have for one another.

**Physical touch**

It begins with the gentle caress he gives your cheek at the beginning of the seasonal wilt; autumn. To see him so vulnerable, honey-eyes melting at the mere image of you. It’s a charged look, so filled to the brim with adoration you swear he’s overflowing; Hades has never been known to be half-hearted with his emotions.

Then he’ll move to cradle you, hand moving from cheek to skull; other moving to hold you by the waist. Gods be damned, you melt in it each and every time. He holds you like he’s going to lose you, like he’s never going to see you again, like he’s going to break you -- there’s nothing more that you want then that.

The heat of the moment flourishes quickly, and suddenly you’ll both be moving like insatiable, young mortals. It’s a dance you know well, to let the heat curl within, and let red roses bloom wherever they may -- whether it be at the crown of your head, in the porcelain vases previously empty. You swear, the blooming of flora, no matter the species, manages to rile him up further. The two of you manage to be wild flames dancing with one another, fires feeding into one another.

His gentleness carries into the bedroom, where you lay looking holy, holy, holy;  _ his _ . The divine velvetine petals scattered about the mattress, stemming from your head. The deep wine-color of his bedspread mixed with the bright red of your bashful features. No matter how many times you do the deed, he never ceases to make you feel so small and frail under his gaze, even if it’s so far from the truth.

It’s in the carnal thrust of his hips you swear you taste the divinity on your tongue, but it’s the stumble of his impatient attempts to get his belt off that makes you wonder if there’s a bit of human even in you and him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i recognize this is kind of all over the place BUT. i had the idea for this and had more motivation for it rather then a part two, which is in the works! thank you for the feedback on chapter one, it means the absolute world to me!! i know these are kind of short, and i'm sorry :< i hope they're still interesting reads!  
> thank you for reading, and have a lovely day!! ♡


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